Monday, September 6, 2010

I swear that I’m the worst at bidding farewell to folks. Especially to those who own a part of my heart.

Last night, my sister, her husband, my husband and a host of others joined together for dinner. I was amongst them and found myself tearing up as I watched my sister beam and those around her spring to life under her attention as she bid each of them good-bye, having to head to the airport to catch their flight home.

Her ex watched as tears welled in my eyes, tears that I refused to let fall, knowing that she had to eat at least some of her dinner prior to heading out. So, I sniffled as quietly as possible, and blinked away my tears the closer she got to me. She began to say farewell to me, but we both shook our heads, and I had her sit beside me to begin eating, smiling at her on the outside while inside, the fibers of my being were being torn asunder as the synapses in my brain reminded me that it may be seven long months before I set eyes on her again.

Seven months? Don’t know if I can make it that long.

She finished her last bite, and we hugged. As expected, we dissolved in a matter of seconds, clinging to one another, never wanting to let go, as our friends watched, their hearts aching for us.

My sister left the restaurant, and I followed moments later, needing some alone time in the restroom to collect myself.

Then came today, when it was time for me to leave. I’d said farewell to many of my friends the night before when we met late in our suite. Today, I debated texting good-byes to the remainders of my friends or meeting with them. But in the end, I opted to meet with only a couple—both highly treasured. And okay, I admit that I’m a wuss. They’re both manly men who I knew wouldn’t get emotional when we had to say good-bye to one another. And thankfully, they didn’t disappoint, for I don’t think I could have gone through a repeat of my shaking and tear-filled good-bye to my sister the night before.

My friends, husband and I, instead, stood around cracking jokes, recounting our favorite moments of the time we’d spent together and the drama created by others that we could have done without.

So, what about the rest of my friends? Did I reach out to them prior to leaving? No. I admit that I as a coward. And even now, so many hours after having arrived home, there are still many I haven’t been able to text good-bye, knowing that will seal in my mind that it will be a long time before many of us meet up again.

The ones that I get the saddest about when realizing such, are the ones that I’m procrastinating about contacting. So…I’ve come up with a plan that’s no doubt flawed and full of holes, but seems to work for me, at least in theory. I’ll get a good night’s sleep and then, once I’m well rested, I’ll finish saying my farewells via text, as many of them weren’t leaving until then anyhow. This just might be a good-bye plan I can live with.